Grey was tired. Grey was beyond tired. At this point—2:00 in the morning—she just wanted to go to sleep. She wanted to crawl underneath her warm covers, rest her head against her large, soft pillows and nod off until morning. But she couldn't. Why? Because she had five more pages of Of Mice and Men to read for English and twenty-two more questions to answer; an assignment she should have done in the beginning of summer, but didn't because she was a procrastinator.

Grey hadn't even wanted to transfer to Beacon Hills High. Grey had wanted to stay enrolled in Boca Prep for the rest of her high school career. Boca Raton, Florida was where her friends were; where her life was. But of course, she couldn't stay there alone—she was only seventeen—and with her mother's new job offer in Beacon Hills, the family had to move to Beacon Hills, California. But it's not like this was her first time living in Beacon Hills; Grey practically grew up in the Stilinski home before her family moved to Florida. She and Stiles had been really close friends before the move, so close in fact, that they both cried in each others' arms before Grey was taken from him and seated in the backseat of a large truck. She could still remember turning around in the backseat and watching him as the car pulled off and drove down the street, tears running down his face, waving goodbye.

A shrill ding pulled Grey out of her reverie. It took her a second to realize the ding had come from her computer. A small window popped up on the screen and Grey quickly maximized it. It was an e-mail from Stiles:

Hey Grey! How was your first day back in town? Have I mentioned just how glad I am you're back? Or how great you look—God, these past five years have been really kind to you. Okay, I know, "flattery will get me nowhere" so here's the deal: Scott and I really need to talk to you, it's extremely important. We have a problem and we think you might be able to help us with it. Have I mentioned how pretty you've gotten? Okay, I'll stop now. See you at school. —Stiles

Grey shook her head. Scott and Stiles were always having some type of problem. Even before she left, she had to help them with thousands of issues—bullying, girls, homework...girls. Nonetheless, she loved them both dearly. And, sadly...she'd do anything for those tools. Closing out of her e-mail, Grey went back to her homework.

Three hours later, Grey crawled on top of her bed, not bothering to pull back the covers. Finally, she thought as she closed her eyes. Sleep. But, just when it seemed that Grey would get the chance to close her eyes and drift off—beep, beep, beep. Grey's alarm went off. Peeking out of one eye, she checks the time; 7:30 in the morning. No way, she thought. I am not leaving this bed. I am not leaving this bed.

Ten later, she was fully dressed—black jeans, white tank top, cropped black leather jacket, light gray scarf around her neck, and black lace-up boots; makeup done—an all natural look that suited her perfectly; and hair perfect—her loose, dark curls falling over her shoulders; and was on her way downstairs. She greeted her parents in the kitchen before grabbing an apple out of the refrigerator, taking a bite and tossing the apple away. "No time." she interjected when her parents opened their mouths to chastise her. "I'm gonna be late for school!" With that, she ran out the door. Grey waved at Mr. Parks, her family's next-door neighbor, before hopping in her black 2013 Dodge Dart and driving off.

Grey parked in the first spot she saw as she pulled into the student parking lot of Beacon Hills High. As she got out of the car, she saw a silver Porsche pull into the spot next to her and, seconds later, a tall blonde guy stepped out. It only took Grey two seconds to tell, from the angry expression that always seemed to be permanently glued to his face, that this guy was none other than Jackson Whittemore. It had been five years since she'd seen Jackson and, although the years had changed Grey, he seems to have stayed the same; still the same, angry little boy he'd been when he was twelve years old.

"Is there a problem?" She asked in her innocent voice.

"Damn right there's a problem!" He said, nostrils flared, fists at his sides. "You parked in my spot." Grey stared at him incredulously. She then scoffed and looked at the spot before going over to her car, getting down on her hands and knees and checking underneath it. Jackson only stared at her in confusion. "What are you doing?' He finally asked.

"I'm checking this parking spot for your name, Jackson." she replied, getting up and brushing off the knees of her black jeans.

Jackson opened his mouth to say something—most likely something condescending—until he heard her say his name. He looked at her in confusion once more. "How do—" then recognition flashed on his face as his mouth curved into an O and his head lifted slightly. He smiled devilishly before speaking. "Grey Betancourt." He cocked his head to one side slightly. "When did you get back?"

Grey crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one leg. "Two days ago."

Jackson looked her up and down, a smirk on his face. "Well...five years has certainly done wonders for you." His eyes lingered on the curve of her hips—made blatantly obvious by the clothes she was wearing—before flashing up to her blue-gray eyes. Grey answered his smirk with a glare. "Okay," he said after a long stare-off. "I'll let you park here today—only because it's your first day back."

Grey rolled her eyes. "Oh, such a gentleman," she said sarcastically, feigning admiration. Though Jackson was clearly oblivious to the sarcasm.

"I know," he said, chuckling, hints of a smirk playing on his smug face. "But, tomorrow," he leaned in close to her, his mouth to her ear. "I want my spot back." He winked at her before walking into the building.

Great. Grey thought as she walked into the building behind him.

More to come! I hope you guys liked what I posted. Look out for a TVD/TW crossover coming soon. 'Til then, read and review :)